


I am my own worst enemy

by Builder



Series: Creedless Assassins [7]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Fate, Gen, Mission Fic, POV Natasha Romanov, Poison, Poisoning, Protective Natasha Romanov, Sickfic, Vomiting
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-23
Updated: 2020-08-23
Packaged: 2021-03-06 19:53:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 620
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26054512
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Builder/pseuds/Builder
Summary: “Barton’s down.  Poisoned dart.  Can’t remove it or he’ll bleed out.  Need medevac stat.”
Relationships: Clint Barton & Natasha Romanov
Series: Creedless Assassins [7]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1096227
Kudos: 11





	I am my own worst enemy

**Author's Note:**

> Find me on Tumblr @builder051

It must be fate that it’s Clint that catches the arrow to the shoulder, barely an inch from where his armor ends. At first Nat laughs at him, but when another volley of projectiles fly at them from over the HYDRA facility’s wall, she’s forced to duck and fire back at random. She watches from the corner of her eye as Clint reaches deftly over the injured shoulder to pull his own arrow from his quiver and pull it back against the string of his bow. He aims, fires, and misses his target. Then he blinks, begins to slowly shake his head, and keels over sideways, a trickle of blood running from the corner of his mouth.

Nat pauses for a fraction of a second, just long enough to pull in a single ragged breath. “Clint,” she whispers, glancing down at him, then returning her attention to the onslaught that continues to rain down on her. Nat raises her weapon and moves it left to right to left again, firing off rounds as she does. The rain of arrows thins, showing that she’s incapacitated at least a few of her assailants. 

Nat has just a moment to decide what to do next, and in the split second, she’s sure of her decision. She throws herself over Clint’s body, slamming her ear against his chest and trying to listen through the thick plates of kevlar to hear if his heart’s still beating. It is, she thinks, though maybe faintly? Perhaps wildly? Or is it the staggered rhythm of her own breathing getting in the way? He’s alive, though, and that’s all that matters. 

Nat grips Clint’s biceps as tightly as she can, her gun still held cocked and ready in her right hand. She hooks her legs through his and swings her hips sideways, swimming the both of them closer to the wall and thus more difficult to hit by projectile. 

“Mmph.” Clint groans as his head drags against the ground, leaving a trail in the dirt. He begins to gurgle, and Nat uses her chin to flip his face sideways so bloody vomit can flow freely. His stomach must be empty, and a heavy retch nearly knocks Nat off his chest while bringing up only bile and sputum. 

Nat lets go of him with her gun hand and uses it to wipe Clint’s face. He deserves more dignity than this, but it’s the best she can do. She puts her head back down on his chest to listen to his heart and lungs, then presses at the comm in her upward-facing ear. It takes a moment to crackle onto the proper channel, and in that precious time, another arrow plants itself in the ground perhaps a foot from where they’re lying. So the enemy has figured them out. Time is even more of the essence.

Once the irritated voice in Nat’s ear comes on with a sharp “Yes?” Nat bursts into speech. 

“Barton’s down. Poisoned dart. Can’t remove it or he’ll bleed out. Need medevac stat.”

There’s no question as to the accuracy of her information. No prying. No curiosity. Fury knows answers will come in time. He only asks what he needs to know, which is, “Are you prepared to carry on this mission alone?”

“Yes.” Nat doesn’t hesitate. But she feels her heart thumping wildly in time with Clint’s. She doesn’t know if she’s making the right decision. His injury is a distraction, and a large enough one to get her killed.

“Romanov?”

“Yes.” Nat doesn’t reply with a question. She just repeats her answer. For if Clint’s life is in jeopardy, she supposes she wants hers to be in it as well. That’s how fate should be.


End file.
